Alien Skies, page 30
part #3 of Wakanreo Series
Kamuhi studied his brother-in-law covertly. In spite of the fact that he had chosen a study of the most Wakanrean of art forms for his life’s work, Yulayan’s twin brother looked considerably more Terran than his sister. His nose wasn’t arched enough for a true Wakanrean; his face was almost oval, rather than triangular like Yulayan’s. Even his ears seemed strangely Terran in shape. In spite of that, he had two sets of vocal cords, and Wakanrean-sized irises, something Yulayan had always envied. They both had the body and facial fur of their Wakanrean father and a head crest of long bristly Wakanrean fur rather than their Terran mother’s hair. And both had inherited the retractable claws unique to Wakanreans among sapient species.
Kamuhi moved from scrutiny of Kifarao to a comparison of his own child and Kifarao’s. Malia and Paquain had their heads together over a book, and the contrast was obvious. Paquain looked completely Wakanrean. There was no visible sign of his Terran heritage at all. Malia on the other hand looked Terran but with a difference, the most obvious being the downy fuzz that covered her skin. She also had rudimentary claws on her fingertips but they were much smaller than Paquain’s, and she couldn’t retract them. Kamuhi’s mother had described them as aggressive fingernails. Malia’s hair was a combination of a head crest and Terran hair. She could grow it long in the back but it never grew out in the front.
Yulayan was asking Kifarao what he had performed, and her brother was listing the specific qatrahs. Kamuhi didn’t know enough about them to know what they were about.
“What about you, Juoam?” he asked. “How are things at the hospital?”
Juoam answered in her soft voice that everything was fine. She was a doctor specializing in trauma cases, so she had to be on call frequently.
“Have you two heard anything about the Trishenhai?” Yulayan asked. “I know Ayzanai is familiar with it, and you see him more often than I do, Farao.”
Kifarao nodded. “Ayzanai told me that because of what his father said, some people think Malia is the Trishenhai.”
“It’s gotten more widespread,” Yulayan replied. She told them about the ancient Wakanrean woman coming to the front gate.
“What did you say her name was?” Juoam asked.
“Umphauron Diow,” Kamuhi said. “She told me she was a hundred and seventy-two years old, and she looked every minute of it.”
Juoam frowned. “That’s the name of the leader of the Guinahai. They’re not even active on this continent, though, at least they never have been in the past.”
“Who are the Guinahai?” Yulayan said.
“It’s a small religious sect,” said Juoam, “an offshoot of the Disciples. My mother’s family came from Huquaj, and they belonged to that sect. My mother pretty much gave it up because it drove my father crazy when she talked about it, but she was raised as a Guinahai. They’ve had the same leader for as long as anyone can remember—a woman named Umphauron Diow.”
“Could there be two people with that name?” Kamuhi asked. “Is it common?”
“Diow is common enough,” Kifarao said. “But Umphauron is very old fashioned. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone named Umphauron.”
“It was probably common as mud when she was born,” Kamuhi said.
“What do the Guinahai believe in?” Yulayan asked Juoam. “You said they were an offshoot of the Disciples. How are they different?”
“They’re much more mystical,” Juoam said. “That’s what drove my father crazy. He considered it blatant foolishness to talk of visions and prophecies and seeing the future. They also revere Paruian to an incredible degree. They pray to her.”
Yulayan looked at Kamuhi. “Could the old woman who came here be the same woman?”
“Wisuta is a long way from Huquaj, especially for someone of her age,” he said.
“Not today,” Kifarao pointed out. “There are high speed shuttles leaving on the hour, if not to Huquaj, then to Zanliun and other cities nearby.”
“She did have an unusual accent,” Kamuhi admitted. “She didn’t sound as if she were from Wisuta.”
A timer chimed softly and Kamuhi and Yulayan went to serve the meal. They sat down and said no more about the Trishenhai and religious sects because the children were at the table.
The next day, Kamuhi reported as usual and spent some time with Soong going over some of the tricks of the Security trade. He remembered what Jared had said once about Security having the best toys, and he could see what the commander meant. The Security Office had an incredible inventory of listening devices, recorders, scanners, and other types of hi-tech gear. Corporal Soong seemed to know them all very well indeed.
After he finished with Soong, Kamuhi gave Jared a call. He got the Shuratanian watchdog instead of Jared, and he left a message that he would like to speak to the Commander, but it wasn’t urgent. It was late afternoon before Jared called him back.
“What is it, Lieutenant?” Jared said.
“I’ve learned something about the old Wakanrean woman, sir,” Kamuhi said. “I didn’t know if you wanted me to contact Chief Da Gama directly or to tell you?”
“Come see me,” Jared said.
“Do I need to come right now, sir?” Kamuhi asked. “I’m due in the training room in ten minutes.”
Jared thought for a second. “No, go ahead and keep your appointment with pain; I’ll catch you afterwards.”
“Yes, sir.”
Kamuhi made a point of being at the training room in good time. Yesterday’s workout had gone pretty well, once Quolund got over being afraid to throw him, and Kamuhi didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot again. The Terran was looking forward to being able to use two hands sometime soon.
There was no one else in the training room, again. For some reason, Quolund seemed not to want an audience when the two of them faced off. Kamuhi had caught on when he heard people on the staff grumbling about their training times. Quolund was making sure no one else was scheduled when they were training.
Once Kamuhi had warmed up, Quolund approached him with the cord. “Ready, sir?”
Kamuhi held out his hand and the sergeant bound it as usual. They faced off, and Kamuhi was careful. He danced around the Miloran trying to keep him moving. Quolund was quick for a Miloran, but none of them could change directions quickly once they had started moving. Kamuhi made the most of this, darting in and out trying to get past Quolund’s guard. Kamuhi kept out of reach and was still able to get some hits in on Quolund.
After half an hour, Quolund called a halt.
“It’s time, sir,” he said.
“But we just got started, Sergeant,” Kamuhi said. “I’m not even winded yet.”
“No, sir, I don’t mean it’s time to quit. Hold still a minute.”
He came up behind Kamuhi and started untying the knots.
Kamuhi felt a tremendous sense of relief. “I’m looking forward to this, Sergeant.”
“Yes, sir,” Quolund said. “Take a minute to get the circulation back, and we’ll start again. Just remember, it’ll seem strange at first, because you’ve gotten used to balancing with only one arm. Also, try not to favor one hand over the other. You may be tempted to turn right around and favor the left hand over the right, since your left is now so much stronger than it was. Don’t do that. I don’t want to have to make you fight with your left hand tied. Use the best hand for the situation. Use both together when that’s best.”
When Kamuhi was ready, they faced off again. Quolund was right in that it took Kamuhi some time to get used to the change. He was tentative at first; his body seemed not to remember how to use his right arm. Once Kamuhi had made some moves, he picked up confidence. He was amazed at how well he was doing. His guard was much stronger and his offense was more aggressive. He had no difficulty getting past Quolund most of the time, and he wished he could really try throwing him. Once Quolund managed to get a grip on Kamuhi’s left arm and tried to throw him but Kamuhi broke free easily.
Finally, the Miloran called a halt.
“That’s enough for today, sir,
Kamuhi was jubilant. “That felt damn good, Sergeant.”
“Yes, sir,” the Miloran agreed, “you did very well.”
“You looked pretty good, too, Sergeant,” said a voice.
The Miloran frowned, clearly wondering who had dared come into his training room when they weren’t on the schedule, but Kamuhi had recognized the voice as soon as he heard it. He didn’t come to attention since they were in practice clothes.
“Good afternoon, Commander,” he said to Jared, who walked across from the far corner of the room. Kamuhi wondered how long he had been there.
Jared nodded. “Good afternoon, Lieutenant.” He looked around the room. “So this is where you keep getting banged up?”
“Yes, sir,” Kamuhi said.
Jared looked at Quolund. “Are you through with the Lieutenant, Master Sergeant? I need to ask him some questions.”
“Yes, sir, we’re all finished,” Quolund said. “I’ll go get cleaned up if you want to talk in here?”
“Thank you, Sergeant,” Jared said.
Kamuhi waited to speak until after Quolund had left the room.
“I didn’t know this is what you meant when you said you’d catch me afterwards, Jared,” he said. “If you were in a hurry I could have skipped the workout.”
Jared shook his head. “I wasn’t in a hurry. I wanted to see you in action. You seem to get something out of this orchestrated mayhem that makes you reluctant to give it up, even when you get hurt. I wanted to know what it was.”
“Well? Did you find out?”
“I think so,” said Jared. “This is your chance to be a kid again. You missed it the first time.”
Kamuhi laughed. “You might be right. I did always feel that I was missing something when I was growing up. I have a problem seeing Sergeant Quolund in the role of the kid next door, though.”
“It would have to be a really tough neighborhood,” Jared said. “The thing is, Kam, this is one place where your intellectual achievements mean nothing. Here, you have to work for equality. It’s what you would have gotten if you had gone to school and tried out for team sports instead of sitting at home in front of a terminal doing differential calculus and quantum physics.”
“Okay, Jared. You’ve got me figured out.”
Jared nodded. “It’s either that, or you’re unequivocally nuts. Miloran men are just plain big, Kam, and their center of gravity is somewhere around their ankles. It beats me why you’d want to take one on.”
“I think you were right the first time. I told Yulayan when she asked me why I did it—it’s fun.”
Jared snorted. “At least today your fun didn’t land you in the hospital. That makes a nice change.” He gestured to a bench against the wall. “Sit down and tell me what you found out.”
Kamuhi sat and related the information that Juoam had told them about the Guinahai and their religious leader. Jared was intrigued. “I wonder if Da Gama has found this out yet. I might see if I can sucker him into a bet.” He looked at Kamuhi suspiciously. “Did you tell Drushachh about what Da Gama said?”
Kamuhi shrugged. “Not all of it. She already knew you’d sent for me and that Da Gama was there. I told her about the old woman.”
“But did you tell her Da Gama wanted you to work in Intelligence?”
“I didn’t tell her that he had come right out and asked you. But I told her he was interested in my linguistic skills and my memory. She’s amazing, Jared. She knew I was keeping something back. It’s like working for my mother.”
Jared nodded. “Some Shuratanians are like that. It’s borderline telepathy or empathy or some intangible quality of perspicacity. It makes them disconcerting. Anyway, she’s also a persistent woman and having put this much time into training you, she doesn’t want to lose you. I had to make some promises to get her off my back. You keep out of the infirmary and you can stay in Security for a while—assuming no one yanks you out from under me, which is always possible, too.”
“Thanks, Jared.”
“I hope you feel like thanking me the next time that walking mountain puts you face down on the mat.”
Kamuhi grinned. “Face down isn’t so bad. It’s when you land on your back that you really feel it.”
Jared laughed but didn’t stay to chat. When Kamuhi went to clean up from his workout, he found Sergeant Quolund sitting on a bench in the shower room.
“I’m sorry, Sergeant,” Kamuhi said. “Were you waiting for me?”
The Miloran nodded. “Just wanted to let you know,” he said in Miloran, “I figured it out. He’s your minder.”
It took Kamuhi a minute to realize what he meant.
“Do you mean the PC?” he said, sitting down beside the Miloran.” As Quolund had started the conversation in Miloran, Kamuhi answered him in that language. “You think Commander Harlengin is keeping an eye on me?”
The sergeant nodded. “He’s never set foot in this training room before, that I ever heard of.”
“He’s a friend,” Kamuhi said. “And besides I called him and told him I had some information he wanted.”
Quolund shook his head. `No. He’s looking out for you. You got hurt before, and he wanted to see for himself if working out was really dangerous. There’s a flag on your file, and he’s your minder.”
“I thought you said when there was a flag, the C.O. always looked out for you? Jared is the C.O. for the whole planet.”
The sergeant pondered this. “Maybe,” he admitted. “But I still think he acts like a minder. You’re under Drushachh, and she never once came down here to observe your training.”
Kamuhi smiled. “I don’t think he was checking up on you, Sergeant, if that’s what’s bothering you. And if you’re going to compare, Captain Drushachh knows you very well so she doesn’t worry about your training methods.”
Quolund still looked glum. Kamuhi slapped him on the back. “The day’s over, Quolund. We’re off duty, and I finally got to fight with both hands for the first time since I got here. It’s my turn to buy, and I feel like celebrating.”
The sergeant allowed himself to be persuaded. After he got changed, Kamuhi called Yulayan and told her he would be a little late.
“Working late, Kam?” she asked.
“Not exactly, sweetheart. I need to cheer someone up. Do you mind?”
“It’s okay. I didn’t have any special plans. Malia and I will find something to do.”
Kamuhi and Quolund went to Suzie’s again. It was less crowded this time since it was earlier in the evening. The table in the corner was free. The two of them sat down and ordered.
“If you’re celebrating, you should try Miloran whiskey, Kam,” Quolund advised.
Kamuhi shook his head. “I’ll stick to ale, thanks, Quolund. No less a person than Guhlhan hna Parkwaht told me to stay away from Miloran whiskey. I got totally swacked on less than half a glass and had to be taken home like a sick child.”
Quolund laughed. “I’m sure you’re exaggerating.”
“No, really,” Kamuhi said. “It was his private stash it’s true, but still it took less than half a glass, and I was lucky Jasoahn got me home before I passed out. My wife has made it plain I had better not come home that way again.”
Quolund shook his head sadly. “You’re as big as a Miloran and you can fight like one, but if you can’t hold your liquor, you’re just another Terran.”
This made Kamuhi laugh. “I’m sorry to let you down, Quolund. I’m afraid there’s not much I can do about it.”
“Well,” said Quolund philosophically, “no one’s perfect.”
They were on their second drink when Kamuhi noticed that Corporal Prakech had come in. He waved a hand and she came over to their table.
“Is this a private party or can anyone join?” she asked.
“Sit down, Prakech,” said Quolund. “The Lieutenant has to leave soon or his pretty little wife will come after me, but I plan to make a night of it.”
Kamuhi smiled. “You’re about the only one on base who can call Yulayan ‘little,’ Quolund.”
Prakech took a chair and ordered a drink. “Are we celebrating something?”
“The liberation of my right hand,” said Kamuhi. “Master Sergeant Quolund has pronounced that I can now fight with both hands.”
“I’ll drink to that,” said Quolund and he did.
“Schubert will be worried,” Prakech said. “He’s afraid you’ll take your revenge once you get to use both hands.”
Kamuhi grinned. “I do have some memories of Schubert’s excessive enthusiasm.”
“I’ll schedule you two together soon,” Quolund said. “But I also want to see if you can help Ruhpham. The man needs work.”
“If all we’re going to talk about is fighting,” said Prakech, “I’ll find another table. Not everyone gets a kick out of knocking other people around the room. I certainly don’t understand why you enjoy sitting and talking about knocking other people around the room.”
“What do you want to talk about, Prakech?” Quolund said. “I’m in a much better mood than I was, and I’m prepared to be accommodating.”
“Did you hear we’re getting a new person?” she said. “A transfer. She’s replacing Petersen, except not really because Petersen was a private, and we’re getting another sergeant.”
Quolund shook his head. “That kid couldn’t learn. He was worse than Ruhpham.”
“At least Ruhpham knows which side of the terminal to face,” Prakech said in disgust. “Petersen never did figure it out.”
“I knew he was going,” Kamuhi said, “but I never heard where they sent him?”
“Admin,” said Prakech in a tone that held no respect. “He’s going to be a clerk or something, but not here. They shipped him off world this morning.”
